


Time For Bed

by Lavender_and_Vanilla



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anal Sex, Greg's hair, M/M, Smut, Soft Smut Sunday, mystrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-05-20 14:27:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14896280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lavender_and_Vanilla/pseuds/Lavender_and_Vanilla
Summary: Written for Soft Smut Sunday and inspired by this Tumblr post.https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/lavenderandvanilla/174716357418Convincing Mycroft to come to bed was easier than Greg thought it would be.





	Time For Bed

“My?” Greg leaned on the doorframe to Mycroft’s office.

 

“Hmm?” Mycroft didn’t look up from his computer screen.

 

“It’s one o’clock.”

 

“I won’t be much longer.” Mycroft hoped what he said was true. He only needed to hear back from his CIA contact, and then he could wrap up.

 

Greg sighed.

 

Mycroft froze. He tried to keep his eyes glued to the document on the screen. It was no use. The urge to see if what he thought would happen next would was too strong. It had been going on all day in a most distracting manner. Mycroft looked up.

 

Greg stood wearing only his pants and his robe belted loosely at his hips. His hair gleamed, shiny and damp from a recent shower. A few strands had flopped forward. Then it happened. His left hand came up and swept across his forehead pushing the silvery hair back and to the right.

 

“You know I don’t mean to pester you, but we have plans today. You need some sleep.”

 

As Mycroft gazed at Greg his thoughts were far from sleep, although the desire for the bed was growing, swelling even, and becoming increasingly hard… to ignore. He mentally shook himself. His partner needed a haircut. That was all.

 

“Yes, of course. You’re quite right. I’ll just…” Mycroft glanced at the screen to see the message he’d been waiting for had arrived. Looking back at Greg, who once again reached up to brush away the hair that had fallen back over his forehead, Mycroft let the plea for more time die on his lips. Mycroft’s cock twitched insistently and pressed against the fly of his trousers. Biting his lower lip, Mycroft shut down his computer.

 

He stood and was graced with one of those gorgeous smiles of Greg’s. It still took Mycroft’s breath away to have that smile aimed at him. Coming around the desk, Mycroft commented, “I find I’m not particularly ready to sleep, but I’m quite ready for bed.”

 

Greg’s smile turned sly. He took in his partner’s hungry stare, pink cheeks and husky voice. His gaze dropped to see the front of Mycroft’s finely tailored trousers distorted by the enlarged cock currently trapped within.

 

“Foreign Office emails do that for you?” Greg teased.

 

“No, rake, you do.” Mycroft pressed himself against Greg, whining in his throat as Greg palmed him. He buried his head in the crook of Greg’s neck.

 

“Best get you to bed,” Greg whispered. “We have to do something about that swelling before you can sleep.”

 

It was only a few steps to the bedroom and years of practice meant it was no time before Mycroft was laid out naked on their bed. His cock free to stand proud, beckoning to Greg.

 

Greg’s hair slipped forward again as his stripped off his pants. “I need a haircut.” He muttered, as he pushed his hair back. Mycroft moaned. Greg laughed, noting Mycroft’s cock bouncing invitingly. “It’s like it’s waving at me.”

 

“It is waving at you. Get over here.” Mycroft growled, eyeing Greg’s thick cock now ready to enjoy the party. He reached for the lube and started to slick his own prick.

 

Greg climbed atop of Mycroft, hovering to allow the lube-slicked fingers to explore, stretch and moisten his entrance. He kissed Mycroft's neck and cheeks, writhing as the long fingers pulsed inside of him.

 

They groaned in unison as Mycroft slowly entered Greg, his steady hands guiding Greg’s hips. Greg bent forward kissing Mycroft deeply, and then they began to move in an easy rhythm. Greg pulled back and Mycroft’s eyes fluttered open to see Greg’s hair lying once again across his forehead.

 

What was it about Greg’s hair and the way it fought to lay as it will? It made Greg look boyish and unkempt and roguish and sexy and…

 

Greg’s eyes were closed, lost in the sensation of Mycroft’s cock filling him up. He ground down, panting and cursing softly. Unconsciously he swept back the errant silver strands.

 

That simple, familiar gesture had Mycroft undone. Crying out he thrust wildly into Greg.

 

Greg opened his eyes to watch his lover fall apart. The sight brought him to the brink and a few quick strokes of his own prick had Greg coming hard on the heels of Mycroft’s orgasm.

 

Mycroft slipped out as they rolled into each other’s arms. They kissed and murmured sweet nothings as they came back down from their climax. Mycroft found the tissues and carefully cleaned away the bulk of the mess they had made.

 

Greg lay back on the pillows, smiling at Mycroft. “I love you,” he said, pleased and satisfied.

 

Mycroft, propped on his elbow at Greg’s side, looked down at his partner. “I love you too.” Long strands of silver lay over Greg’s forehead nearly to his eyes. Mycroft gently moved the soft hair aside, caressing and stroking his beloved’s face as he did.

 

“Mm. I really need a haircut.”

 

“Don’t you dare.”


End file.
